Steampunk
by Worldsweaver
Summary: AU. 19th century England was the age of steampunk. Arthur Kirkland is a feared aero-ship pirate. But when something goes wrong and he ends up partnering with an albino seeking revenge what is he going to do? Charecter death. T for mild violence and swears
1. Chapter 1: Indigo Pirate

**I love steampunk~ So I decided to make Iggy into an aero-ship pirate! :3**

**England: Oi, why am I in a top hat and overcoat.**

**'Cause it's steampunk scone-head. Okay, while we argue you guys know the drill: 'I don't own Hetalia, England, Sealand, Germany, Italy, potatoes, stop signs or the Mona Lisa. Though the last three aren't really mentioned in this story... **

**Dedicated to: All the awesome people out there who like steampunk! **

**And if you want to make the dog fight even more epic just go to youtube and look up Abney Park- Building Steam. It's (in my humble opinion) the best steampunk band I know of. **

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><p>Smog. A common sight in 19th century England, but nonetheless cruel and unforgiving; having the ability to lose yourself in it's vast nothingness. It filled the English air. Drowning out the visibility completely. An empty grey canvas, waiting for someone to fill it.<p>

The man turned a small tarnished golden knob fastened to the dashboard of the aeroplane. Then he pulled a lever. Steam burst out of a pipe as the engine hummed to life. The man sighed contentedly, surprised that the contraption still worked after the many years and dog-fights.

He popped open the wind shield to the cock-pit and swung his legs into the machine; settling himself into the uncomfortable wooden seat surrounded by metal trinkets of different sorts.

Cranking off the park shift the aeroplane whirred, the propeller swung lazily in the cold sharp air. He reached up and pulled the cockpit lid over him, only a few more minutes- then he would be free.

He flipped a switch: the propeller blade started to rotate faster and faster until it was a bronze blur. He placed his hands onto the wheel of the machine as it started to slowly inch forward- every second it gained speed.

The man's name was Arthur Kirkland, though he was less of a man and more of a boy still being in his early twenties. Most of the others respected him, knowing he was fully capable of destroying them in a dog-fight. Arthur was born in a small house to a poor family in London, England. Not being able to get a job in weapons design he took up aero-engineering. Sandy blonde hair, green eyes, and a sharp tongue were not uncommon in the area, but defiantly not normal.

He now had two jobs, one as a cartographer in the day. And a much more profitable job, as you, the reader shall soon find out, in the night night.

As the small machine soared through the smog Arthur glanced out into the atmosphere: S_mog. How bloody interesting. _He grimaced to himself, at least it would provide decent enough cover when he needed it. He glanced down at the hastily drawn map balanced onto the top part of a music stand he had 'borrowed' and welded to the inside of his ship. Guessing on where he was he banked to the left.

The closer he got to the earth the more the smog parted, soon he could seen the large aero-ship being loaded for take-off. It looked to him to be some sort of blimp, round, ugly, and about as boring as it could get. But he did take note on the gunners stationed at fifty-foot intervals around the deck. _I wonder if they're doing that because they have heard of me_.. Arthur mused to himself. He had gathered information that it would be shipping valuable goods from London all the way to the Savage Lands: the New World. He circled high enough above the ship that he couldn't be detected. He stifled a yawn- _Why did all the maps have to been done so bloody quickly. And why so early, can't they understand he was busy with more important matters at night?_

The plank was drawn in from the ship, and the sound of a loud horn jolted him out of his day-dreaming. Small red lights blinked on and off cutting through the pea-soup like smog to signal to other ships that this one, the: 'HMS Tortuga' was about to depart. Expertly banking to the left he dodged the slowly rising blimp; just missing one of the rotary blades that helped keep the massive ship afloat.

Skimming along a layer of smog he kept a good distance away from the vessel in case they would spot him. As the ship rose higher and higher. Arthur clucked his tongue in annoyance at the amount of artillery there was on board the ship, he ducked beneath some cloud cover- even though it was probably not necessary, the amount of smog and mist probably obscured him from any detectors.

He clicked the ammunition into place on the correct holster; with him just pressing down a pedal with his foot he could send a spray of bullets fast enough to put holes an inch think into a brick wall. He removed the small telegraph from his box, he doubted they would give up to his 'tiny, weak mess of a ship' as one captain had called him. Sadly the end of said captain was grim, to say the least.

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><p>On the ship a thin captain stood proudly surveying the passing smog from the deck on the underside of the blimp. His blue and gold suit showed hardly a crease as he sighed in delight at the money he would be rewarded. He ran his hand through his golden pampered locks of hair. He could smell the cooks preparing escargot, or one of his other favourite dishes. The French captain wet his lips with anticipation of his next meal. A knock brought him abruptly out of his thoughts:<p>

"Mr. Bonnefoy! Someone has just threatened us that if we don't halt immediately they'll fire at us!" The ship mate said when he entered.

"Oh?" Francis Bonnefoy slowly turned on his heels to face the man standing in the doorway. "Who do they think they are."

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><p>Arthur leaned in close to the telegraph to pick up the small taps that were barely audible over the roar of the engine.<p>

'S-C-R-E-W Y-O-U P-I-R-A-T-E-S, O-H-H-O-N-H-O-N-H-O-N-H-O-N~': Was what about he could decipherer. _What the bloody hell was 'Oh-honhonhonhon~' supposed to mean? Those wankers would pay for the insult_. As Arthur's blood boiled he banked sharply to the right, straight towards the the other aircraft. Training the gun on the hull of the blimp he slammed his foot down onto the pedal, a barrage of bullets whistled through the air braking the glass panels and putting holes in the metal.

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><p>"Mon Dieu! How many of them are there?" The captain screamed as he ran out of the small room and deeper into the large blimp. Pressing the intercom button he screamed into it: "Fire at will!"<p>

Obeying the artillery men trained their guns onto the shadow of a small ship coming straight towards them. They fired.

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><p>Arthur grit his teeth, as he preformed the eighth barrel-roll in a row today. Dodging the annoyingly fast bullets spraying out of the blimp had tested his patients. He slammed his foot down into the pedal he took out a couple of the gunners. He dove straight down under the blimp out of shooting range and came back up on the other side of the ship in a corkscrew. Arthur was now over the ship as he sent another line of bullet holes into the fabric of the blimp. A pathetic deflating sound came from the blimp as it slowly lost altitude. Another spray of bullets flew towards him, he did yet another barrel-roll; one bullet struck the wing of his aero-plane, another hit the wind-shield causing a massive crack to spread across the entire thing. Unable to see he kicked it open and it blew off, now he had no protection on his torso up, the rest being covered in metal.<p>

"This loot better be pretty bloody good for the price I'm paying.." Arthur growled as he now silently thanked himself for adding a seatbelt when he built the aeroplane. He shot back at the blimp taking out a few more gunners.

He swooped near the blimp and spotted a man waving a white flag out the window. Slowing down he flew up to the man; He was a short brunette with a cow-lick poking out next to his left ear.

"WE SURRENDER! WE SURRENDER! PLEASE DON'T KILL US MISTER! EEP!" The man waving the flag yelled at him in an Italian accent before squeaking in fright and hiding behind a tall blonde headed stoic man who glared at him in annoyance.

"Are you serious? You gave up this fast? I was expecting more of a fight." Arthur yawned as he parked his vehicle and he got out. They all stood on the top of the blimp and waited for the captain to come out.

"Ja. If it had been up to me you would have been dead by now. But orders are orders." The taller blonde German shrugged and put a protective arm around the Italian who was literally shaking in his boots. "So why are you targeting us?" He questioned raising a blonde eyebrow.

Arthur sighed as he heard the infamous 'click' of a gun and the cold metal being pushed against the back of his head. "Oh honhonhon~ Look who we have here. A pirate, non?" A think French accent purred behind him.

"'Ello Governor. now, about your surrendering; I'm guessing that was a lie." Arthur clicked his tongue in annoyance but still didn't face the captain.

"Oui, mon cher. But you surrendering to us; That. Is what will happen!" The captain announced poking him in the back of the head with the gun at every word to make his point.

"You think I'm giving up this easily?" A small smile crept onto the Brits face. Spinning into a crouch; His black, red fringed trench-coat flailing dramatically behind him he now faced the Frenchman, he spun and lashed out a foot tripping the captain, who fell off the platform and just barely saved himself from falling to his death by grabbing onto some of the ropes which hung from the aero-ship.

Arthur stood and brushed himself off, flicking off a speck of dust from his shoulder he turned his focus back onto the German and the Italian. "Go on. You were about to say something weren't you?" The Brit said calmly as if tripping Frenchmen off of blimps was an everyday activity.

The two stood and stared at him with opens mouths. The neat golden-headed German shook his head to clear it before raising a fist readying for a punch.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." England said wagging a finger. The German continued to glare at him. "Fine, I'll make you an exception; go ahead, try and hit me." Arthur shrugged.

The German looked at him in confusion. Unsure of weather to attack or not. He raised it again and threw it full force at the pirate. Who ducked and then grabbed his wrist. Unbending he now had the man's arm over his shoulder. He easily tossed the German across the platform to land dazed on the other side.

Arthur turned to the shaking Italian. "Are you going to try and hit me?"

The Italian broke down into tears: "Please don't hit me! I have relatives in Liverpool! I will do anything you want! Just don't bully me!" he wailed, Arthur almost took pity on the boy, he looked like he belonged in child's day-care centre, not up here in the bitter cold and unforgiving air.

"No. I won't hit you. Just show me where the goods are and I'll leave." He sighed, taking over this ship had been way to simple, something bad was bound to happen.

The Italian led him down into the ship where a couple of stacked crates lay, each about twelve inches by twelve inches. The short brunette pried off a lid and Arthur looked over his shoulder: they were full of indigo. _I could make a killing selling this in a market. _Arthur contemplated as he lifted a box.

"Well, thanks for your time lad. Couldn't have done it without you." He said as he carried the box out and set it down in his aeroplane and then got in. He placed the heavy leather flight goggles over his eyes and strapped himself in. He glanced over at the quaking brunette.

"If you could give this a shove lad, that would be dandy." He said to the Italian who obeyed him, still shivering.

The Italian placed both hands on the aerocraft and shoved it off the blimp. As he fell Arthur flipped a switch flicking the wings to life. Arthur had designed them to be like dragonfly wings, two overlapping pairs of thin, plyable, hollow metal. They beat faster than you could blink and made manuvering easy. The machine corkscrewed out of it's nosedive and Arthur was back in control. He flew off back into the mist.

It had been a few hours of flying before Arthur noticed the sound. It had started out faint and ordinary, perhaps a bird or a distant aeroplane. But it had grown into a shuffling that had to be an intruder. The Brit stalled the vehicle and turned to look into the back to see what the noise was-

"TAKE THAT YOU BLOODY JERK!" A high-pitched boys voice yelled before Arthur felt something hard hit his head. Arthur's forehead slammed against the dashboard of the aerocraft and his vision blurred; The last thing he saw was a boys face, the boy had blonde hair and bushy eyebrows and wore a white and blue outfit. And holding a wooden plank.

_Then all went black. _

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><p><strong>Hello Sealand. XD<strong>

**A/N: For all of you American's out there: No, I did not misspell air. Aero is just my prefered spelling, and I'm using English(UK) on my computer. So there are diffrent ways of spelling. Example: 'Spain is a pedophile (US). vs Spain is a paedophile (UK).' (or color(US) vs colour(UK)) **

** I have kind of imagined the blimp to look like the Hindenburg. Or some other large air-vessel. And Iggy's 'aero-plane' to have the body of a bi-plane but with four long thin rotating wings. Like a dragon-fly and kind of a tarnished gold/copper kind of colour.**

**So you guys know what to do! Review to make me feel like I'm not sending stories out into nothingness... 'cause it sure seems like it sometimes...**


	2. Chapter 2: Land Seeker

**A/N thanks to everyone who sent in awesome reviews! I'll get Iggy to give you hard-tak! (don't except it though, you might get food poisoning.)**

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><p>Arthur awoke to the sound of waves. No more smog, mist or any of hazy annoying clouds. Something was rocking him back and forth and his head was spinning. He brought a calloused hand up to his forehead and wiped his finger tips across something warm. He brought his hand back down to eye level to reveal the crimson dye of blood. Groaning, Arthur braced his hands against the dashboard of his aero-plane and pushed himself up into a sitting position.<p>

Looking around he noticed that the aero-plane had landed in water. He was floating. _Brilliant._ _What the bloody hell am I supposed to do now? _Arthur glared down at the grey blue waves. They lapped rhythmically against the side f the copper hull. He dipped his hands into the salty waves and scrubbed off the blood that dotted them.

"You done?" A boy's voice demanded from behind him. Arthur spun abruptly to come face to face with a boy. The same exact boy who had hit him on the head with the piece of wood. The Brit sighed as he could almost hear people snickering at him at a pub when he has a giant ugly purple bruise sticking out of the back of his head. Checking his pocket he found a black velvet circle, about a foot in diameter. He pushed down on the centre and with a small 'pop' it had turned into a top hat. He placed his goggles around the crown of the hat and stood in the rocking ship. He stretched his back and let out a loud yawn.

He then turned his gaze down to the boy and his features darkened: "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you over board and leave you here." The pirate glared down at the boy's small frame.

The boy looked at him with large blue eyes. "I'm good at repairs! And I can map out an area."

Arthur didn't seem to exited about an extra passenger. He removed his top hat and folded it up again placing it into a deep pocket sighing as he did so."S-Sir... you couldn't be _that_ heartless, could you?" The boy pleaded.

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><p>Ten minutes later, the boy found himself atop a wooden crate; the murky waves rocked him back and forth. As Arthur preped for a water take-off.<p>

"I won't forget this you jerk! Just you wait I'll find you and give you a what-for!" The boy called after him as the pirate took off.

"Yes, yes. Of course you will." Arthur called after him, the machine groaned in complaint at the wet take-off, but soon he was flying through the beautiful, cloudless, blue sky.

Arthur glided along at a good height of about one hundred meters, he lost his map when he lost the wind shield, so any island he found would do now. He squinted at a sliver of land on the horizon. Land is land, Arthur dropped near to the water, mist spraying a silver-white trail behind him. The man wiped sweat from his brow, it was strangely hot and humid out. _How far had I drifted off course? _He pondered as he drew nearer to the land. The scenery was far diffrent from what he had before...

After an hour he finally reached the land itself. It was a bunch of scattered islands, circling over one small island he could see a large rectangular building. With what seemed like thousands of people filling into it. All different races and classes. He could see a large boat unloading more and more people onto the small island. Arthur lowered the plane and stalled it. He could just barely read a rusting iron sign that had the words: 'Welcome to Ellis Island' written on them.

"So that's where I am." Arthur sighed. He was in America of all places. Why not somewhere better like India, or even Russia. At least there he could get help. The Brit circled Ellis yet again before making another water-landing. Anyway, he was running out of coal.

Putting on his top hat as he got out, he was greeted with glares from the people as they stood in the vast lines. Waiting to be called on. Arthur swept past them. Coming up to a blue and gold uniformed man standing next to a young girl, she was a small thin-framed child wearing a light blue dress, her long, red hair falling down her shoulders and back. The girl had piercing green eyes as she stared up at the pirate, unsure of what to make of him. The man standing over her was a dirty blonde, large blue eyes and a mouth that wouldn't stop talking to the Hungarian man he was trying to help. Suspecting the man had something to do with Ellis Island Arthur ventured to question:

"'Scuse me," he began, the man completely ignored him, the girl still kept eye contact with him it started to make Arthur uncomfortable. "E-excuse me mister-"

"No. Sorry, that's our policy, if you have any sickness you'll have to stay here until you get better or we can deport you." The man in uniform said cheerily to an unhappy Hungarian man.

When the Hungarian man grumpily left the ticket collector. The man in uniform then turned his attention to none in particular: "Tickets! Bring you tickets if your boarding the USS Liberty!"_ How original,_ Arthur thought to himself; _Next they'll have a bloody statue named Liberty._

Finally the man turned his attention to his daughter, yet again ignoring the Englishman standing next to him.

"Elena, don't look so unhappy. Were going home soon." The man complained straightening the girls dress; "I know your bored but try not to look to depressed, it depresses the aliens."

"Bloody git." Arthur muttered under his breath for the misuse of the word. The girl heard him and smiled.

"Hi mister." Elena spoke in a strong but shy voice. Smiling, but still keeping eye-contact with Arthur, as if she could burn a hole through his head if she concentrated hard enough.

The man looked at Arthur and broke into a wide smile: "Hello random person! Welcome to Ellis Island! What can I do for ya'? Do you have your ticket ready?"

The pirate cleared his throat before continuing, maybe the blonde hadn't noticed he looked like a pirate "Um. No; I was wondering where I could re-stoke my ship."

"What?" The wheat blonde looked down at him dully. Arthur clicked his tongue in annoyance at the others slow reaction. If he had been in England, the coal miners would be grovelling at his feet for him not to shoot them with the twin flintlocks always at his side.

"Papa, he means coal." The girl said exasperated with her father. Both men looked down at the girl.

"Elena! I am having a conversation here! Can't you see I'm trying to be the hero here?" The suited man ran a desperate hand through his well kept hair.

"A-actually." Arthur began but was cut off by an Italian and a Spanish man who came up to the American.

"Listen to us! Chigi!" The Italian man barked stamping his foot on the ground, successfully catching the attention of the American.

"Lovi, I think that man was trying to have a conversation with that other one~" The Spaniard leaned down to whisper into the angry Italians ear.

"Good day to you sirs, you may call me Alfred Jones!" The uniformed ticket collector (now named Alfred) said with a bow. "Where are you headed today?"

"I think we're meeting up with relatives in Virginia, right Lovi?" The happy Spaniard said, smiling down at his glowering partner. They were both wearing brown overcoats that hid most of the rest of their attire and top hats adorned with small bronze gears.

"Well Lovi and partner, I'll need names and tickets please." Alfred yawned as he rested an arm on Elena's shoulder. The girl looked up at him annoyed at his actions but didn't speak.

"Ha, my names not partner amigo~ It's Antonio Hernandez Carridio~!" The Spaniard said with a large smile. The two then dug around in their pockets and retried two yellow tickets and handed them in. As the Spaniard did so he looked over at Arthur. His face no longer held the happy air-headed look it had. It now reminded Arthur as if he had seen an old enemy.

Alfred leapt back in surprise when Antonio handed in his ticket; "Y-your arm!" Alfred stuttered staring at the Spaniards arm. Antonio looked down at it his smile faltering, "Si. I used to take down pirates in dog fights. I lost this in one of them." The Spanish man said flexing his right copper arm, the wires and pistons moving like blood vessels and tendons. "I've sworn to find and kill the man who did this to me." The Spaniard's face darkened, his Spanish accent had grown deeper and more frightening. Then he sighed and looked down at the Italian who was waiting impatiently on the other side of Alfred, Antonio handed in his ticket and left with Lovi.

Alfred examined them and then let them pass. Arthur let a small yawn escape. _How bloody long was this going to take?_

"Your still here." Alfred said unamused.

"Aye. You got a problem with it?" Arthur spat glaring at the man.

"Well, seeing as you don't have your ticket, and your injured I'm going to have to ask you to step aside." Alfred said grinding the tickets into the wooden box he had hung around a strap about his shoulders.

Arthur brought a hand up to his forehead again; dry blood flaked off onto the tips of his fingers. "Oh. Nay, I'm fine. Just a cut."

"Sorry sir. I'm going to have to escort you outta here." The American said as he laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder. The Brit shrugged it off and took a step back defensively. "Sir! Wait!" Arthur started to walk away. He would find someone else to help him. And who knows, the man might have figured out he was a aero-pirate. And coupled along with the way that Antonio had looked at him... How could such a happy looking man have been a privateer? It didn't make sense. _Maybe he had known that I was a pirate, I'm certainty dressed like one, but many people look the same way._ Arthur's mind raced as he started to run when he saw Alfred handed the ticket job over to a co-worker and ran after him.

The Brit weaved in and out of the large mass of people. Dodging grabbing hands and rolling baggages. Arthur could see more security coming; A tall blonde man in bifocals stepped out in front of him and held out a hand:

"St'p, 'n th' n'm 'f th' l'w" The man practically growled at him. Arthur skidded to a stop in front of him. The Swedish officer glared down at him a whistle positioned in his mouth ready to blow and call even more attention to him. The man was a giant; he had to be over six feet as he glowered down at the shorter Englishman.

Arthur sighed, as he could hear Arthur catching up to them. "I -pant- finally found -pant- you!" Alfred wheezed as he doubled over to catch his breath. Arthur turned towards him. Alfred was still hunched over as the Englishman started to run straight at him. Using Alfred's hunched body as a hurdle Arthur swung himself over the American and into the crowd. He could hear the Swedish man blowing his whistle but he apparently couldn't see Arthur as he was hidden among the crowd. Arthur spend towards his ship. He got about a hundred feet when a passer-by in a white mask stepped in front of him, the masked man was holding some sort of pastry and happily munching away when Arthur ran past; expertly snatching the pastry out of the man's hand as he did so.

"I'm going to rip your throat out you bastard!" The man called out after him before also joining the chase; maybe he wasn't the best person to steal from.

Wind whipped the blonde pirate's hair around his face as he leaped from the edge of the walled-in island. Falling about a meter he landed hard onto the aero-plane. Switching on the engine the small machine started to roll along the water; it's wings slapping the water spraying mist onto the masked-pastry-man who was standing at the edge of the island shouting profanities at Arthur. The man opened his large black over-coat and drew out a large musket. _America has the best security my arse._ Arthur audibly gulped as the man cocked it and aimed it.

"Bugger." Arthur growled before being interrupted by a wave of bullets that would have hit him if he hadn't ducked into the small aero-craft.

He reared the ship, taking flight after the second storm of bullets. He could hear the sharp pinging sound as they struck his beautiful ship that took him so long to build. Arthur did a small corkscrew as if bidding fair-well to his newly made enemies and flew off towards the mainland.

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><p><strong>AN Sorry that this is kind of a filler-chapter, the next one should have more of a plot. And I hope your happy Chandinee Richards. XD I hope she isn't to OOC.**

**But okay! How many countries did we meet today?:**

**Turkey, , Spain, Sweden, America. We have already met Sealand (who lives, don't worry), Germany, , France, and England himself. Just put it in the review if you want to see a particular nation and I'll try and add them in! Review~~~**


	3. Chapter 3: The Adventure Begins

**A/N There are a couple of racial slurs used here; Limey (it means a Englishman, refering to pirate days when people sucked on lemons and limes to avoid scurvy) and kraut (which means Geman. I wouldn't call your German or English neighbor or friend any of these, you might end up with a black eye.)**

**Sorry! I don't mean to offend! And I hope you guys like Prussia!**

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><p>The glorious smell of urine, exhaust fumes, cigarettes, and various other bodily fluids wafted up Arthur's noes as he trudged down the streets of New York. The constant hum of motors and steam pipes chorused through the air. Cold wind blew news papers aimlessly tumbling around the busy streets as the Brit weaved his way through the crowded city. Women in luscious furs and children in tattered clothing mingled together on the over-crowded streets. Black snow sheeted across the brick-paved streets as carriages rolled their way through to their destination.<p>

Arthur could barely see over the hundreds of people but spotted a sanctuary: "Tino's Pub" rubbing his freezing fingers together in anticipation Arthur followed the herd of people till he reached the door.

Pushing the think cedar wood doors open he was greeted by the war air and constant smell of drunken idiot. Most sane person would reject the idea of entering a pub dressed like you just murdered someone, with dried blood streaked across your forehead- but as you should and might already know; when are sane people that interesting to write about?

Plopping down onto on of the bar stools, hunched over the counter he beckoned over the happy looking blonde waiter.

"What'll it be good sir?" the apparent Tino said cheerily as he polished a glass and set it down in front of the man sitting to Arthur's right.

"If you have any rum, that would be swell." Arthur said. His throat parched. Tino grabbed another glass and wandered off to get the drink.

"You don't look like your from around these part, limey." The man to his right said in a raspy German accent, Arthur turned to answer, a sharp remark on the tip of his tongue. Looking at the man thoroughly, the German looked like a mercenary; he was dressed in a dark grey coat, and a black bowler hat. His skin looked as if he had lived under a rock his entire life and never seen any sunlight. That was about all Arthur could see considering the rim of the bowler hat was casting a shadow over the rest of the man's face.

"You're one to talk kraut." Arthur hissed back.

"Someone's got a sharp tongue on them, the awesome me might have to cut it out if your not careful." The man spoke into the beer glass as he took another swig. The man then set the glass down with a 'clunk' and wiped the foam away from his mouth with his sleeve.

Turning to look at Arthur he grinned. "The name's Belishmidt, Gilbert Beilshmidt." He extended a hand Arthur started to extend his own when he noticed something one the man's hand: a large spot was drawn in the centre. _A large __black__ spot_. Instantly Arthur withdrew his hand in case the ink rubbed off onto him.

"Arthur- Arthur Kirkland." Arthur said still staring at the man's hand.

"So your one-a-us eh? Kesesesese~" The man said lifting the brim of his hat so Arthur could see Gilbert's albinism. Arthur nodded slightly to show that yes, he was a aero-pirate.

'Cheep!' a small yellow bird flew across the room to nestle in Gilbert's silver-white hair when he removed his hat. "This is Gilbird. He be my first mate." Gilbert smiled patting the creature as it drifted off to sleep on his head. Arthur sighed and looked up at the German.

"So, where are you headed?" The Brit asked.

"Singapore. I heard they can take care of my.." The German waved his right hand slightly to indicate that it was his trouble. "My spot." He said solemnly. "I've been running from a band of pirates for 'bout two moons now. They probably find me unless I can get the un-awesome thing removed."

"Ah. Do you know how your going to get there?" Arthur said raising an eyebrow. Tino came back and slid a mug of rum to him he picked it up and drank, feeling the sweet alcohol wash away the dryness in his throat.

"No." Gilbert said letting his head fall and smack the bar table. "I don't want to die though."

"Well." Arthur felt a small smile creep onto his lips; "I may be of assistance then."

"How?" Gilbert brought his head back up and looked at him wearily.

"I was a cartographer." Arthur shrugged. The German's mouth fell open.

"Nien Scheiße..." Gilbert said gawking. "You want to come?"

"What's in it for me." Arthur's face grew serious. Gilbert thought for a moment.

"I can bet there'll be a good sum of money that we collect on the way. Were might fly through India, so you could pick up a lot of awesome stuff." Gilbert said removing the bird from his head and replacing his hat.

"You do realize that the chances of us dying are greater than us living, right?" Arthur raised one of his large eyebrows in question.

"That just means it'll be awesomer than a boring train trip!" The German beamed.

Arthur studied the naïve man. His crimson eyes twinkling with desire to start flying to save his own skin. "...No thanks mate. I'll find my own way to get money." And with that, Arthur stood and downed his rum. Then started to leave.

"W-wait! Stop! That's totally un-awesome of you to walk away like that!" Gilbert hopped off his seat and followed the Englishman out.

Arthur sighed after about thirty minutes. The bloke still hadn't stopped following him. Arthur spun on his heals and glared at the German; "Okay kraut. What could you possibly have that I would want?"

"Okay, well, first of all: I'm not German. I'm Prussian. There's a difference. And secondly, I can let you in on a large stash of coal."

"And exactly How much is 'a large stash' defining?" Arthur crossed his arms, suddenly interested in what the Prussian had to say. People trudged past them in the small snow storm; flecks of white stuck to the men's hair and shoulder like thick watery dandruff.

"How ever much you can fill your ship and your pockets with- besides, we could stop in Japan for even more."

Arthur smiled, conning this man into giving him all the coal he needed would be simple."Well then. What time are we leaving mate?"

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><p><strong>AN And so the adventure begins! We have met: Finland, and Prussia in this chapter. I think we'll meet our main antagonist in the next~ Till next time mi amigos! Review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Run From the Past

**A/N Sorry guys- this is going to be solely about our hero's acomplice: Prussia. And why he's running from someone. **

**WARNING: Charecter death, and grafic violence against said dead charecter. (The first one out of a possible few deaths.)**

**And lucky you guys! You get to meet the main antagonist in this chapter! **

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><p><em>Moscow, Russia- two months earlier<em>

Frost covered the desolate area in a sheet of white, glistening nothingness. All except for Screams. The single thing a human being no matter what can not ignore. Except for one individual. The tall, thick man stood knee-deep in the snow. One gloved hand rested on his faithful blood-stained water pipe, the other toyed absent-mindedly at his tanned, tattered, blood-dotted scarf. The Russian was considered by most to be criminally insane; add that together with the fact that he was one of the most feared man alive and things were bound to happen.

Now this Russian had two sisters; one was his personal butcher- she would take care of anyone who got to close to him, and the other was his mechanic- the buxom young woman could fix more than the average break-down.

The girl in the blue dress leapt gracefully atop the snow, to light and quick to sink into it. Knife blade poised between thumb and forefinger she took careful aim at the victim's shoulder; a blow for damage, not to kill. Flicking the blade she sent hit spinning blade over hilt to sink into it's target with a satisfactory 'thunk'. The frosty-headed man gasped in pain before toppling down into the snow- painting a crimson splash across the white canvas. It was pitiful that he was only a couple yards from his aero-ship too.. She easily caught up to him:

"Brother! I have caught the intruder!" The small girl yelled before snatching the scroll he had clutched in his pale deathly cold fingers.

"Good," The man in the scarf said before catching up. He smiled slightly at the bleeding figure; "So why did you do this?" He said in his thick Russian accent.

"I-it was a game sir... M-me and a friend;" He motioned a weak hand over to the figure sitting in the aircraft. "We don't have very much... So we play a game of risk you see. Whoever has the most guts without dying get the share of collected items. Though I normally win- the priss can't take my awesomness."

"And that is your friend, da~?" The man said cheerily, the wounded albino nodded, "Mathias." The Russian said as he motioned with his hand to a tall spike-haired gentleman standing behind him. "Go retrieve the other one."

Mathias disappeared into the snow for somewhere close to a five minute before returning dragging a bloodied man by his shirt collar. Throwing the brunette into the snow next to the other one. The Russian nodded and the tall Norwegian retreated back into the snow storm.

"Gilbert. You moron... why did you get me involved in this damned theft." The brunette sighed, his bifocals bent; the glass cut into the man's pale skin.

"Well Roderich. It was awesome while it lasted." The Prussian smiled one of conical smiles but was interrupted when Roderich started coughing, blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

"J-ja. It was." The Austrian smirked.

"Sorry to interrupt this touching scene here, da. but were going to show you the game I like to play~" The Russian cut in. Lifting up the Austrian by his hair- the man grunted in complaint but stood before his partner in crime. "Any last words you would like to say, dirty thief?" The Russian spoke calmly into the brunette's ear.

"Ja. Gilbert, would you please t-tell Elizaveta that I do care about her and-" The man was interrupted by a cutlass point protruding out of the bottom of his ribcage- the hilt of the sword on the other side of the Austrian- the hilt being held by the Russian. Roderich slowly looked down to the slowly growing patch of blood growing on his shirt. Shock riddled across his pale face. The Russian slowly removed his long curved blade from the still-standing brunette. But as the last part of the blade left his body the man fell to the ground, staining the white snow red with blood.

"Verdammt... I wasn't able to get away this time.." The Austrian spoke softly, his breath fading.

"N-no!" the Prussian said before hugging the man. "W-were in your house. Next t-to your piano." He motioned out into the empty wastland; "See?"

The Austrian nodded weakly, crimson starting to gather at the corners of his mouth. "A-and Elizaveta's here too. She's scolding m-me about not wiping my shoes off before coming into the house."

"You always seemed to forget to do that." Roderich whispered, his violet eye's slowly closing.

"M-my bruder's here too, he just came back from delivering that indigo to the New World and he's telling us stories a-about the s-strange savages who drink the blood of their own kind in demonic

r-rituals." Gilbert closed his crimson eyes as tears started to overflow and drip onto the Austrian's deathly cold skin.

"R-right Roddy?" Gilbert tried to reassure himself that his friend was still there. There was no answer.

"R-right?" This time Gilbert shook him slightly. Still no reply from the brunette.

"R-R-Roderich?" The Prussian cried out as he started to shake the body. As if he shook the man's lifeless body hard enough he would wake up again and everything would be better.

"No! This can't happen! Y-you killed him! You didn't even give him time to finish!" the Prussian sobbed before cradling the man's dead form- the brunette's violet eyes partially closed from the past pain.

"Da. But that is life. Do you want to end up like him?" The Russian smiled cheerily a smudge of Roderich's blood splattered across hiss rounded cheeks. He reeks of vodka. The Prussian cautiously shook his head.

"Here it is; it is like hide and seek. I will give you a one month head-start. But just so you remember me..." The man beckoned for a second one to step up; this one was an oriental man. A long black pony-tail hanging down his back in his white over-coat.

"Wang Yao," Russia bowed, Wang returned the bow and then rolled up his sleeves. Grabbing Gilbert's shaking arm he examined the palm; the drew out a slender box decorated in strange characters the Prussian had never seen before. Removing the lid he drew out what looked to be a piece of charcoal it was shaped like a cylinder and carved with two snakes spiralling around it, Wang brought the piece of coal to his lips and whispered something inaudible into it, the he placed the piece of coal small-side-down so it stood like a column in the centre of Gilbert's hand.

As Gilbert stared at it- he could see the piece of coal started to writhe, no, the snakes on the piece of coal started to writhe. Squirming around in their black chamber. The Prussian then gasped as searing pain coursed through his arm. He felt as if the skin would melt off him it had gotten so painful- and then it stopped. Wang removed the charcoal piece from his hand and placed it carefully back into the box. Then he stepped aside. Gilbert examined his hand: A large black spot stained into his skin.

"We'll give you a month to get as far as you can. Then we'll start our hunt for you~" The Russian chuckled as they left the Prussian next to his fallen friend in the snow.

Gilbert felt his head spin as he fell into a curled-up position in the snow. Not wanting to run, fight, or bury his friend. Maybe he'd let someone find him. Or better yet, let himself freeze. He deserved it for being a coward instead of joining Roddy. But he needed to tell Elizaveta. So he forced himself to stand.

"I'm sorry Roderich. I'm going to make it up to you by killing that bastard Ivan before he gets me." Gilbert said before trudging off.

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><p><strong>AN Sorry to any Austria fans. I like the aristocrat too! And I'm native American, so sorry about any other racial slurs. **


	5. Chapter 5: Mapping and a Visitor

**A/N Sorry for the annoyingly short chapter. :P And for skrewing up Denmark's name. The next time you see him he should be named properly.**

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><p>One man. He hunched around a small circular table in the centre of a small dimly lit room. The smell of kerosene, alcohol and cigarette smoke clung to every available surface in the tiny inn the two had rented.<p>

On said table there lay a map. A hand drawn world map, spread out in front of them, small scrawly side notes sometimes placed next to the countries to warn the previous owner. Said previous owner at the moment stood near the corner of the room facing the wall and seemed to be talking to himself; He said to the albino that the small, invisible (except to Arthur), green, flying rabbit that appeared and talked to him every time he got bored was real, but every time the Prussian rejected the idea and laughed at him. Or at least he used to, until Arthur gave him a black eye which he was touching gingerly a tin mug full of snow too every couple of minutes.

"Hey... Mind if I contact a friend? He knows his way around here a lot better than I do and you'll like 'im... He's an oddball like you." Gilbert added as he brought the tin mug back up to his swollen bruise.

"Fine. I just don't want a dead-weight extra passenger following us around the world." Arthur said, annoyed that his conversation with Flying Mint Bunny had been interrupted.

"Great, I'll be right back- he told me he lives in an inn nearby."

"Don't get yourself killed, git." Arthur waved nonchalantly as he returned to his conversation with the flying, imaginary, green rabbit.

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><p>Two hours later Gilbert returned with a tall man; The man wore a dark overcoat with a waistcoat underneath along with a white shirt and pants. Arthur hardly noticed as the two waltzed in as he was now joined by Uni and a couple of the faeries that visited him.<p>

"Ahem.." Gilbert started, Arthur jabbered on to his friends seemingly not noticing the two.

The Turk sighed before adjusting his white mask, removing a throwing knife from his belt. The man aimed and threw; the blade singed off a couple hairs from Arthur's head before plunging hilt-deep into the wall in front of the pirate.

"Damn, I missed." The Turk muttered.

"This is Sadiq. Sadiq, this is Arthur." Gilbert said. Arthur slowly turned around a sneer obviously displayed across his features.

"Well. What an unpleasant surprise." Arthur said looking the man up and down; he still had the giant auto-machine gun Arthur couldn't identify slung over his shoulder.

"Yes, thief. How nice to finally meet you when your not running at a hundred miles an hour like a headless chicken." Sadiq spat in his accented voice. "You owe me a baclava."

"You were practically presenting it to me the way you were holding it- so I took it. It was fair game." Arthur shrugged. His answer was another thrown knife that stuck hilt-deep into the wall on the other side of his head. "Okay, so I owe you a bacla-what-ever-it's-called. Big deal. I'll pay you back."

"Ahem. Well as much as this touching moment makes my heart flutter with joy- we need your help Sadiq. Arty mapped a route that follows the Atlantic coast and then cuts through Europe and Asia but were not quite sure of the danger situation that we might face." Gilbert interrupted the blossoming argument.

"So.. you and Eyebrows want me to help you fool-proof your trip?" Sadiq said lifting an eyebrow. 'Eyebrows' grunted at his new annoying nickname to add to the slowly growing list that Gilbert was coming up with.

"Aye. That be correct." Gilbert nodded

"Well, the first thing that comes to mind would be the Black Dragon; it's a aero-pirate group that practically runs Russia." Sadiq shrugged. "Other than that I don't think you two will have that much trouble until you hit the Mediterranean. Then there are some English, Greek, and Spanish pirates you have to look out for." The Turk sighed slightly. "And in Asia I can't be much help. I don't know who's out there."

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><p>The three conversed about a number of different things up until the wee hours of the night. The kerosene started to burn low until the lamps were just a dull light barley illuminating the men's faces.<p>

"Don't get taken by mermaids- or selkies. I heard they roam these waters." Arthur said in a low voice. The lamps light casting a dramatic shadow over the man's features. Moths fluttered around the lamp, bumping against it and making little 'Bzzt' sounds every time they struck the hot glass.

"You believe in mermaids and selkies? Ha- how childish can you get." Sadiq snorted putting on his bowler hat onto his shaggy brown hair.

"I've seen one before. They exist." Gilbert muttered; he had seen one all right. He knew her personally.

"See! Believe this chap. He knows what he's talking 'bout." Arthur said wrapping an arm around Gilbert who snorted.

They bayed farewell to the Turk and sat back down at the table. They looked at each other, not quite sure what to do next. The Prussian had grown strange after hearing about the Russian group the 'Black Dragon' and Arthur was interested in hearing more about what they might be up against. The kerosene lamp burnt out after a couple more seconds of silence and they were enveloped in a shroud of darkness.

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><p><strong>AN A selky is a mythical creature that is a seal most of the time, but if they take a liking to you (or you steal their skin) they can remove their skin and turn into a beautiful human. I'm pretty sure you guys know what a meremaid is so I'll just say that both are common pirate folklore. **


	6. Chapter 6: Trouble is Stirring

**A/N Okay! The next chapter should have a lot of action in it! This is kinda the build-up. Hope you guys like it!**

**And I'm still open for suggestions about charecters. So feel free to send in the country/person you would like to see!**

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><p>Daylight filtered in through the old glass windows casting a bright light into the small room in the inn. Casting a shadow over the two bodies that slept; one in the small bed, the other on the hard-wood floor.<p>

"No... Go'way... someone turn out the sun..." A groggy Prussian said before pulling the wool covers over his head in attempt to escape the unstoppable sun.

The man sleeping on the floor next to the bed was in a similar state; sleep weighing heavily on the Brit as he forced himself into a sitting position. He could tell his hair was a wreck, he could see bit's of it poking into hi vision. The hard wooden floors sure had done miracles for his already bad back. And by miracles he meant it felt as if he had just been run over by an aero-plane. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes the blonde pirate stood, stretched, and then dragged himself over to the small table sitting solemnly in the centre of the room.

Arthur traced a soot-blackened finger along the path they would follow: They would fly north into Canada. And follow the coast till they crossed across to Greenland. Then they would cut across Greenland and fly to Iceland. Flying from Iceland to England, then England to Europe. The pair would then fly across the centre of Europe and into Asia where they would be home free and Arthur could get his hands over all the coal he needed to keep his aero-craft afloat. And Gilbert could have all the faith in voodoo magic he wanted.

Unfortunately this was one of his problems; his aero-craft wouldn't be able to take him that far. He would need to get a bigger, faster, stronger one. He could hear Gilbert groan before rolling over and falling out of bed and landing hardly onto the floor.

"Verdammt!" The Prussian spat, clutching the back of his head and curling up into a ball; "I hate mornings... I'm to awesome for mornings..."

Arthur tried to ignore the swearing man in the corner of the room as he counted the islands and plotted out the place he would leave the Prussian for his coal. He could hear the man hopping around on one foot to get his foot through his pants leg. Another crash and Arthur sighed before turning around;

"Bloody hell, are you trying to draw attention to us you git?"

"No. I'm trying to get dressed, but if you want me to waltz around all day in nothing but my underclothes then I'll really draw attention to us. Kesesesese~" Gilbert smirked as he finished buttoning his waistcoat.

Arthur sighed as the unbalanced man started to hop around again in attempt to get his pants on. Standing the Brit turned to the Prussian. "How much can your ship handle?"

"My ship?" The Prussian repeated to himself.

"No. I meant your hat- of course I meant your ship you bloody git." Arthur hissed, it was to bloody early for him to be thinking clearly.

"It was taken when I got here. The American's don't like you to bring in 'contaminated' ships." Gilbert said sourly. The beautiful bronze coloured ship he had specifically built in Warsaw from the best engineer had been locked away.

Arthur clicked his tongue in annoyance: "Hm. Do you think we can get to it?"

"Ja. Sadiq would know where she's kept." Gilbert smirked as Arthur's forehead smacked the wooden table in desperation. _Blood hell, does Sadiq know everything in the whole damn world?_

"Fine. Let's go." The Englishman sulked before following Gilbert down the spiral staircase and outside onto the street.

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><p>It was around midday when the two walked into the small corner shop. When they opened the door a slight jingling sound rang, as if trying to alert the shop's keeper. The shop was full of old trinkets; copper automatons clicked and whirred as their gears and springs animated them. Skulls of various different animals sat open-mouthed on dusty old shelves. Pots of unknown liquids emitted foul smells. They walked past jars of formaldehyde with dead snakes, turtles, strange sea creatures and other oddities that looked like two or more animals that had been sewn together sat on shelves; gathered like toadstools. Pelts of various different creatures that neither pirate could identify hung on the walls and sat in stacks. Saints reliquaries sat solemnly in stacks. Stuffed animals of different sorts hung on the walls and poised ready to attack on the floor; their glass eyes reflecting the sun and the two visitors to the shop.<p>

Arthur walked up to the counter where the owner sat in a leather chair behind a desk. The back of the chair faced towards him.

As Arthur tried to wake the sleeping man Gilbert examined the many pelts that hung on the walls or sat in stacks on old shelves. Otters, bears, wolf, jaguar, tiger, and many more he couldn't identify piled on top of each other. Plucking one out he unfolded it; A leopard seal's pelt. The silvery, black-speckled fur glimmered in the sun that cast a yellow orange glow on everything in the shop.

"Oi, Gilbert. Help me wake this git up." He heard Arthur call out. He hurriedly folded the skin and put it back on the pile and wandered off to join his friend.

The two stood awkwardly in front of desk, which behind the desk was the slumbering Turk. Gilbert shouted a bit. Arthur poked him with one of the carved canes that sat in the corner near the desk. Nothing seemed to disturb him. Just as they were about to hit him with a cane the bell to the door jingled a bit and two children ran in, screaming at the tops of their lungs.

"Gah! What are you two urchins doing back here? I thought I sold you to Nadala!" The Turk spun the chair around and sat up, his mask gone. His deep brown eyes looked lovingly down at the two even after his sarcastic comment to what Arthur assumed to be his children.

"Go away. I am not your father today!" Sadiq glared down at the giggling boy and girl. The boy looked to be about six or seven, and the girl looked to be about five. Each had they're father's dark brown unkempt hair and dark skin.

"But Papa, Nadala said we cost more than you gave her to take us~" The girl smiled as she hugged her dramatic father.

"I don't care what she said. I gave her money so I could not be bothered by you for at least an hour. So go play with Nadala's little ones until I want you back." Sadiq yawned before removing his mask from a small drawer and placing it on his face; covering his dark brown eyes.

"So." Sadiq said hunching over his desk crossing his fingers after the two kids had run off, "What can I do for you two _gentlemen_?"

"I need to know what happened to my ship." Gilbert dead-panned looking the man in his mask-covered features. Even in the couple of seconds they had seen him they could plainly see a a scar that started from his left brow and crossed over his right eye to end on his right cheek;_ Bloody hell, it had to be close to seven inches_. Arthur thought.

"Did they take it?" Sadiq questioned.

"Ja, the bastards took it." Gilbert grunted in displeasure.

"Well, if you go down to the east docks, there should be a couple sheds. Look in them and your ship would probably be in one of them." Sadiq shrugged nonchalantly as if any intelligent person should know that. The Prussian grunted at his apparent stupidity.

"Well, I suppose we should go and get your ship?" Arthur mused before tipping his hat to the Turk and dragging the Prussian out of the small oddities store and onto the snow-laden streets.


	7. Chapter 7: Searching for a Ship

**Sorry that this chapter is short, and that I haven't updated in a while. The next chapter should have a _lot_ of action in it.**

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><p>The flurry had started to thicken into a light blizzard as the two stood in front of the iron wall that surrounded the sheds. The wall itself had to be twenty five feet high. The top invisible by the shroud of snow.<p>

"I say we split up; that way we'll be able to find the shed twice as fast. If you get into one my ship's the one with a eagle painted on it." Gilbert informed him "Mind giving me a boost?"

Arthur sighed before walking over to him. The Englishman faced the large wall as Gilbert stood behind him. Placing his hands on the Brits shoulders the man; he jumped, the Prussian practically tackled the man in attempt to stand on him. Arthur's head connected sharply with the side of the iron gate and he stumbled backwards with Gilbert still clinging to his back.

"Bloody hell! Would you get off me you bloody tosser?" He screeched before slipping and falling backwards to sandwich Gilbert in the snow.

After a couple seconds of panting from the sudden loss of air Arthur rolled off the man, shaking his head trying to clear the spots he was seeing after impact with the wall.

"Verdammt.." Gilbert said after about five minutes of them laying in the snow gazing up at the sky. Snow settling as a white blanket over his clothes.

"Belt up. I say we find our own ways over the wall." Arthur said before standing.

"Well excuse me, if you have a better way of getting over the wall don't let me hold you back." The Prussian said putting up his arms in defence.

Arthur shrugged, crossing over to the wall he ran a hand over the old rusted surface. His fingerless black gloved hands brushing off ice; as if feeling for something. The Brit grabbed onto one of the pipes that ran up and over the wall; jumping up he placed a boot into a small crevice he had found. He then jumped from the pipe and clung with his hands to a small gunners hole about five feet off the ground pulling himself up he latched onto the nearest protrusion he found sticking out of the wall.

The Brit was now eight feet in the feet in the air in less than a minute. Gazing down at the gawking Prussian Arthur saluted him before jumping upwards and latching onto a crevice carved into the iron wall. He had about five more feet left; holding on to the ledge with one hand he reached out and grabbed on the same pipe he climbed ten feet back. Arthur swung himself from the pipe to another gunners hole and then slid himself onto the top of the wall.

"Ta-ta good sir~!" Arthur waved cheerily as he straddled the wall, "See you when I find the shed!" With that the Brit hopped off the wall and down into the enclosed area.

As Arthur waded through the ever building snow he could hear the Prussian still swearing on the other side of the wall.

There were five large sheds sitting side by side. Their size casting tremendous shadows that turned the white snow black. Icicles froze on the roofs of the sheds as rust ate away at them.

Arthur blew warm air into his hands before rubbing them together for warmth. Walking over to the nearest shed he drew out his cutlass. A _'shlink'_ sound cut through the wind as the lock fell to the ground and Arthur pushed open the large heavy door. Stepping inside he could hardly see a thing; the light from outside casting a blue glow on the metal aero-planes inside.

"OWAH!" Arthur spun on his heels, cutlass at the ready for the owner of the cry: he heard the soft crash of a heavy object falling into hardened snow.

"Gilbert." Arthur muttered under his breath before walking out of the shed to find a man half-sprawled on the ground. His legs sticking out in two different directions propped up against the wall.

The figure got to it's feet; the Brit could see the heat from it's breath as it panted. "I-I'm okay." Gilbert said before walking over to Arthur who looked at him, a bemused look played across the Englishman's face.

The two entered the shed together, each fumbling around in the darkness to search for a ship with an eagle painted on it the only light they had was a couple matches and the moonlight from outside.

The two didn't find Gilbert's aero-craft in the first shed. They checked all but the last one. As the Prussian just began to set foot outside the shed to enter the last a lantern light shown to their right; Gilbert was hurriedly pulled back into the shed as the light passed.

"Did you see that?" Gilbert hissed, "There is a night-guard! A night-guard!"

"Belt up, it's not that bad."

"Are you kidding me? If we're caught we'll be shot!" Gilbert panicked dropping the last match they had; extinguishing it in the snow.

"You seriously had to drop the last bloody match, didn't you?" Arthur silently growled before cuffing the man in the head.

"Is anyone there?" A voice called out. The two men instantly quieted.

"I'm going to shoot you, trespasser, unless you come out this instant!" What they now suspected to be the security guard yelled.

"Should we go?" Gilbert whispered.

"Nay, we can take him on. Follow my lead." Arthur smirked before climbing into the nearest aero-craft.

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><p><strong>AN: IGGY KNOWS PARKOUR! XD Again, I apologize for any spelling/grammatical issues that are in this. At the moment I am beta-ing myself. And I haven't been able to update 'cause ** happens. I went to rowing camp. :P But it was fun, even though my arms feel like they might fall off.**


	8. Chapter 8: Blue and Crimson Meet

"You better show yourselves you bastards!" The guard shouted shooting a couple rounds off into the air.

"He sounds like he means business." Gilbert hummed while trying to get the aero-craft to start.

"Aye, we can still take him though. It won't be to hard." Arthur agreed. The ship he had found fit him well, he was in a plane similar to his own; short, aerodynamic body and thin wings.

Gilbert's was a bi-plane. A simple reddish colour displayed across the double set of wings and body.

The two flipped on the engines- immediately catching the attention of the guard who by now had started swearing in German. Steering each plane towards the open door they saw the night-guard run in front of the door, a large rifle cocked between his hands.

The two sped down the frozen runway and took off just above the man's head.

"We'll need to make a few loops before we can gain altitude!" Gilbert shouted over the roar of engines and wind. Arthur nodded and they each turned- Gilbert going right, Arthur going left.

The man fired at them, each time just barely missing the aero-crafts._ 'We'll need to take him down before he hit's us.'_ Arthur sent him a message through his telegraph, before they had left the two had wired the devices so they could contact each other.

He saw Gilbert bank sharply to the right, almost hitting the wall as the man turned his ship towards the enemy.

"Let's make this an epic kill shot." Gilbert muttered swinging the equivalent to a sniper rifle out and pointing it at the man as he sped vertically along the wall.

The man barked something in German, it sounded something like "East?" Gilbert made his ship horizontal before landing in the snow.

"Bruder?" Prussia called out sitting in his aero-craft.

"Was?" The man said stumbling back in surprise. He fell backwards in the snow. "Vat the hell are you doing here? I thought you were dead!"

"Nien! The awesome me is alive!" Gilbert yelled out before hopping out of the bi-plane and walking over to his brother.

Before Gilbert could say anything else he found himself in a choke hold. The German's knee around his throat; "You and that bastard abandoned Elizaveta and I. You arshloch.. You and that bastard Roderich left... Where is he I want to punch that son of a-"

"Roderich's dead, West." Gilbert grew solemn, his brothers grip slacked.

"Was?" The man choked.

"He's dead! That Russian bastard killed him!" Gilbert cried burying his face in his hands as he sat in the snow.

"But Elizaveta's..."

"I don't know where it is West! When Arthur and I get back to Europe I'll try and look for it. Roderich probably had it locked in a bank for all I know..." The Prussian sobbed.

Arthur watched as the two men sat in the snow, the blonde headed German trying to comfort his brother. Arthur knew the man; he was the one he had thrown off the blimp a couple days back.

"That arschloch... That evil man..." Gilbert said curled up in a ball, his brother had an arm around him.

"It's okay. He's in a better place now." The German said to his brother. "We should get you two out of the cold, I have a place we can stay."

Arthur helped the two to their feet, then went to push the doors closed. The three left. Snow still coming down harshly, biting into the men's fingers and faces.

As they left no one noticed the girl in the blue dress; no one ever did until it was to late. She crouched over them on the top of the wall, searching the three for any signs of threat. She removed a small black box from a bag she had slung over her shoulder; opening the box there was a small portable telegraph. The girl smiled, a started tapping:

_'I __know__their__location__, __dearest__brother__.'_


	9. Chapter 9: Deja Vu

**A/N Okay, so, I'm still open for charecters. So go ahead and review to give me your input to see which charecter you want to see! And I'll try and make it happen! **

**Sadiq: I'm not owned by Weaver.**

**England: And if ye want's to make this experience even more enjoyable just open a new tab and go to youtube and look Abney Park. They're a popular Steampunk band. Any of their music is good. Here's a link to one of their songs: http: /www. youtube .com /watch?feature=player_d etailpage&v=AWH ckwiqpho**

**just get rid of the spaces.**

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><p>The three men walked silently down the narrow winding back streets. Snow still drifting aimlessly hither and thither. Factory smoke-stacks pumped out black charcoal smoke as the constant click and whirr of engines filled the midnight sky.<p>

Arthur watched his feet in awkward silence as the clock tower chimed one AM by the single long drawn out note.

The two men that walked beside him, the silver headed one had his bowler pushed down far onto his head and the blonde had an arm around his brother.

She sprinted along the rooftops to keep up with the men. Her small feet hardly making a sound when they connected with the slate roofing. Her blue dress trailing behind her. _Dammit, why did they half to tie her damn corsets so tight this morning-_ And that's when she slipped.

Arthur's head immediately whipped around towards the noise; "What did you hear?" Ludwig asked.

"We should hurry. I think someone might be following us." Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly trying to make out the feint outline of a person.

The men entered a small Tudor era beam and wattle house; the exterior was a dirty white plaster while dark wooden beams criss-crossed a frame. The German closed the door silently and locked it.

"Ve~ Luddy your back~!" A short Italian cried before running into the man who let out a small grunt of annoyance. "Who are th- EEP!" The brunette let out a scream before hiding behind the German, "L-Ludwig... p-p-pirate..." the man quacked as Ludwig planted his palm into his face.

"Ja. I know. This is Arthur and my brother Gilbert."

"The pirate is your brother?" The Italian looked mortified that the two blondes were siblings.

"Nien you dumpkoff. I'll his bruder." Gilbert stepped in, removing his hat and putting it on the hat hanger.

"Oh... Well, are you going to push Luddy off any blimps this time?" The brunette said, his eyes closed as if he was day dreaming.

"No. I won't push Ludwig off any blimps." Arthur sighed as he hung his large black over-coat on a hook.

the girl cursed herself for not paying better attention as she pulled herself back onto the roof. Snow was now embedded in what felt like every article of clothing on her and she was freezing. When the girl turned around to find her target she couldn't see anything. Nothing. The streets were empty. The girl searched desperately but to no avail; Ivan will not be pleased.

The Englishman, the German, the Italian, and the Prussian walked down the narrow hallway. Ugly wallpaper that needed changing hung on the walls. They could hear the crashing of dishes and yelled swears from the other end of the hallway.

"CHIGI! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COULDN'T FIND ANY TOMATOES? WERE IN _AMERICA_ DAMMIT! WHY WEREN'T THERE ANY TOMATOES?" Crash. There went another dish.

"Come now Lovi, I know your upset about missing the boat but-"

"I'M NOT UPSET BASTARD!" Another couple of dishes were broken before the four entered the kitchen.

"Lovino?" The Italian said, "We have visitors."

"I don't give a damn!" Lovino said stamping his foot before head-butting the Spaniard in the stomach. "And missing the boat was all the tomato Bastard's fault! If he hadn't been distracted by that damn light-show!"

"but it was so pretty~" The Spaniard said dreamily before noticing the guests. "Hola Amigos!" He said walking over to them; "Lo siento you had to come in at such a bad time."

"Nary a worry." Arthur said bowing slightly, the Spaniard returned his bow. "nice to see you two again, mates." Arhur said with a smirk.

"Si. What has it been, two days?" The Spaniard said smiling.

"Well, you two should get some sleep, we can introduce you properly tomorrow." Ludwig said prying the clinging Italian off of him.

And with that, Gilbert and Arthur were shown to their rooms. And quickly were taken in by sleeps tender hands.


	10. Chapter 10: Pasta for Breakfast

**A/N Ugh... fail chapter is fail. Sorry about the late updates, there is this really fun thing called summer that I was enjoying. But now back to being a recluse! YES! **

**Piggy: .. Er.. okay. Well, I want to thank you all for your stunning and amazing reviews. I've enjoyed watching Weaver freak out every time she got a new one. **

**I SHOULD BE GETTING AN EDITOR SOON, SO PLEASE; I'M SORRY ABOUT ANY MISTAKES. **

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><p>Morning light barely streamed through the snow drenched landscape. The blizzard had lasted all night, and still, at five in the morning it persisted.<p>

The Brit yawned, he seriously needed a holiday from Gilbert. How would they even get to Singapore if that Russian pirate practically controlled Eastern Europe?

The scream of a tea kettle jolted him out of his thoughts, he saw an unclothed Feliciano run past him and into the kitchen. Then he heard the faint gasp of a surprised German as the naked Italian sped past him to fetch the tea. Did the git really have to sleep naked?

Arthur rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them of sleep. he had been sitting there for the last bloody half-hour trying to understand what the hell Antonio and Lovino were fighting about, and so far he hadn't come to a conclusion.

"Dammit you bastard! Get off of me!" Lovino screeched as Antonio held him down.

"Lovi.. he didn't mean to..." The Spaniard squeaked, clutching onto the other man's waist as the Italian struggled to attack the Prussian.

"What happened?" Arthur cocked an eyebrow at the two struggling as Gilbert crouched feeding Gilbird seeds.

"Dunno. I think Gilbird might of taken a leak on something." Gilbert shrugged as he held a sunflower seed out to the small yellow bird. Gilbird turned his nose up at the black and white seed, even though Gilbert cooed and tried his best to get the avian to eat it.

"That little cazzo crapped on my tomato!" Lovino yelled, lunging at the two.

"Lovi... that's rude..." Antonio whined as he restrained the angry Italian.

"Hey! Would anyone like so alfredo? I made some!" Feliciano grinned stuffing the creamy pasta into his mouth.

Arthur shrugged, he might as well join the argument; "Who the hell in their right mind eats pasta for breakfast anyway?"

Lovino glared daggers at him; "Well for your information; I do."

"Well for your information; pasta is not a breakfast food." Arthur smirked as Lovino's face turned red and he lunged at him.

"Would you all just shut up!" Ludwig shouted, storming from the kitchen. "We need to decide on how we are going to help them get to their destination."

Via German influence, most of the room's former hum of constant movement had died down. Lovino and Antonio had stopped struggling, Feliciano had stopped munching on pasta, and even Gilbert had paused his attempt at feeding his bird.

Arthur smirked at the rooms shock at the German's outburst: "So why don't we sit down and decided it. Savvy?"

The six of them sat at a small wooden table. The window rattled from the harsh winter air.

Arthur made eye contact with each of them, there had to be a traitor, an odd-one-out; "So, What do you think is a good strategy?"

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><p>"Ha, what do you mean you lost them?" A cheerful Russian smiled, digging a dagger hilt-deep into the table.<p>

The two stood in an empty room; the pink and white flower wall-paper slowly peeling to reveal the pipes underneath.

"Brother, you know I would never let that happen." The girl in the blue dress said, beads of sweat forming on her brow.

"But I cannot see them. So I suppose you have them hidden from me, da?" The tall man grinned, vapours of alcohol emitting from his mouth.

"Er... not exactly... So far I only know that they are currently in New York... and in search of a ship." The girl in the blue dress clenched her small calloused hands, she did not want her brother to toy with her.

"Oh really?" He took a long sip from the half-emptied bottle of vodka then set it down with a rough _clunk_ onto the beaten surface of the table. "Then why didn't you find them and kill them already?"

"Brother, there is a blizzard outside; I could get sick or lost-"

Her brother interrupted sharply: "I did not hire you because I felt pity that you were my sister. I hired you because you knew how to kill and you're strong. But I start to doubt you are what you claim to be; _Natalya._"

"I can kill, brother." Natalya said abruptly.

"Then why are they not dead? I like this game. It is fun, da? I would hate it to end so soon~" The Russian fingered his knife, poking the tips of his gloveless hands; Crimson beads dotting his fingertips.

"I will not disappoint you brother. You know I love you too much to do that."

"I would really hate something bad happen to my dear sister if she failed me.." The scarfed man mumbled into his scarf, seemingly not talking to anyone.

"I-I will not fail you. I have never failed you." Natalya said straightening herself.

"I know," he said lolling his head to one side, silvery-blonde hair falling over his eyes; "But it's never to late."

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><p><strong>AN I'm debating whether or not to throw in a shirtless-pirate-chapter-section later in the story. Try and convince me not to, or that I'm not crazy. -_-'**


	11. Chapter 11: The Promise

**A/N This has to be one of my shortest, crappiest chapters yet. =.=**

**Spain: Lovi! Don't be sad!**

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><p>Dust motes floated around the warmly lit room, as the early evening sun cleared away the clouds. The constant hum of a busy street and factory steam pipes and jets filled the city air.<p>

"Dammit that's a terrible idea! Belay! I belay the idea!" The dark haired Italian exclaimed; standing and banging his fists on the table, his chair almost tipping over in the process.

Most of them had come to an agreement; Antonio would join Gilbert and Arthur and help them get to Europe where they would meet some friends of his. And Gilbert could inform Elizaveta about Roderich. Then Antonio would fly back to America to calm a distressed Lovino and Gilbert and Arthur could fly to Singapore.

Antonio put an arm around the Italian; "Don't worry Lovi, I won't be gone long." Using his other arm he picked up a tomato, the whirr and click of the mechanical arm as it's master manoeuvred each piston to pick up the tomato and bring it to the owner's mouth. He set the half-eaten tomato down on a plate.

"I don't want you to go, bastard.." Lovino mumbled, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He fumbled a small locket that hung around his neck.

Arthur caught sight of said locket, narrowing his eyes to get a better look at it. The locket itself wasn't much to look at, a beaten copper heart, but Arthur could see the hinges that hid something inside it's cold metal exterior.

Gilbert sat in a bored state of mind at the opposite end of the table, his head resting on the palm of his hand as his free hand pet a sleeping Gilbird. His brother on the other hand was taking notes on god knows what while the happy-go-lucky Italian sat babbling about pasta of different sorts besides him.

Arthur sighed, _I wonder if most Americans act like this at meetings..._ He stifled a yawn as the cry of the Southern Italian could be heard.

Antonio stood, pulling the crying man up with him and led him out of the room.

Ludwig glanced up from his notebook; "So you guys will be flying up into Canada, then crossing over to Greenland and Iceland, then flying into Europe and Asia? Wouldn't it be easier to fly across the Atlantic?"

"That's what I said." Gilbert yawned.

"No, because trying to fly over open ocean when you've run out of coal is extremely difficult." Arthur smirked. "And besides, we can make some money, I'm sure some Canadians would love to see Gilbert naked."

Ludwig's jaw dropped; "You will not make money off my brother like that!"

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><p>"Sabes Te quiero, Lovino." Antonio said caressing Lovino's cheek when they left the room. They stood in the hallway, the candles on the wall flickering casting dramatic shadows on their faces.<p>

"S-s-s-so w-why are y-you leaving m-me?" The man cried hugging the Spaniard, burying his face into the man's chest. He could hear the steady rhythm of the man's heart quicken as they hugged.

"Because they need me now, I will come back, I always do." Antonio hugged him tightly, he could feel the other's blush radiate heat.

"Last time you lost an arm, when do you think you will die?" Lovino mumbled, tears still dotting his eyelashes.

"I won't die. I won't leave you." Antonio whispered, he candles illuminating his emerald green eyes.

"P-promise?" Lovino looked up at the Spaniard.

Antonio leaned down and lightly kissed him; "I promise to never leave you, Lovi."

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><p><strong>AN *sigh* Thus proves I can't write yaoi even for my life. **

**A tiny dash of Spamano in at the end. Sorry to those who are homhophobic or just don't like yaoi. Just bleach your eyes or somthing, it'll go away sooner or later. **

**THIS STORY IS NOT A ROMANCE. So there won't be much more like this.**

**Anywho, I'm still open to suggestions for charecters you'd like to see in the story! (just add there human name so I don't skrew it up like last time.. =.=')**

**Piggy: So that's what those two were doing! .**


	12. Chapter 12: Djinn and Flying

"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirates life for me..." The thunk of a dagger going hilt deep into the water soaked post on a dock cut through the silent fog as the thin man stood their. His head slightly cocked to one side.

"...We pillage, we plunder we rifle and loot," He continued the son at a slow, quiet pace. Making it sound more like some kind of sad lament rather than a song to raise moral. He pried the dagger out of the wood with a sickening crack.

"Drink up me hearties, yo ho." He plunged it deep into the green wood again.

"Yo ho, yo ho a pirates life for me..." He brought the stained green glass bottle up to his mouth, washing his dry mouth out with the sweet alcohol.

"With a yo ho ho and a bottle of rum..." He removed the blade from it's wooden sheathe. Glowering at the now beaten up wooden peg sticking out of the dock.

"You ready to leave, amigo?" The Spaniard stood on the land, tinkering with a small piston in his mechanical arm.

"Aye. I'll be right there." Arthur replied, swivelling from his place on the dock to face Antonio. He walked over to his new wing man. "You know how to fly, I assume?"

Antonio looked at him as if he were some naïve child, "'Do I know how to fly?' I was only the terror of the Mediterranean chico." He grinned proudly.

"What about fight, we might have to do some of that." The Englishman said taking another swig of rum.

"Si. I haven't fought in a while though." The Spaniard said as he bit into a tomato. The slightly red/opaque juice running down his chin.

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><p>"Get away you little vermin! I am not your father, I don't even look like you!" Sadiq's familiar voice barked gently as he spun in circles trying to keep focus on the small children running around him in circles. "Why must you keep saying that I am your father!"<p>

"Sorry I pulled you away from your job Sadiq." Gilbert interupted rocking back on his heels sheepishly. "I wanted to say a final goodbye."

"I understand my friend." Sadiq stopped denying fatherhood to his brood and looked up at Gilbert, calmly placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "If you ever find yourself here again, feel free to stop by at my shop."

Arthur smiled as the two men said their farewells, he might be guilty if he had to kill Gilbert or if Gilbert was killed himself. But no. He had to keep him alive until they got to Japan and Singapore- he needed that coal. Something distracted from his train of thought- a flutter of something blue on the rooftops... perhaps just a bird flying out when the snow wasn't coming down in sheets- yes. It had to be that. He thought, his eyes still trained on the place where the flash of colour had been.

He was about to make a comment when the Prussians brother came out followed by the two Italians. _What was the eccentric thing about him again? Everyone here seemed to have something wrong with them..._

"As of now I have compiled a list of what you might face along the way." He stated pulling out a small slip of paper.

_Oh right, he was the obsessive-compulsive one._ He remembered, a grimace forming.

"So the threats are, by my calculations; Mermaids, Selkies, other pirates, and Djinn." The German's accent mangled the word Selkie and Djinn, but other than that he read clearly.

At the word Djinn Sadiq's children stopped playing with their father, who had also become quiet and he smile faded to a stern glare.

"Ve~ what's a Djinn?" The Italian broke the awkward silence with a quizzical look on his face.

"Idiota!" His brother said smacking him on the top of his head. "Don't ask stupid questions!"

"You've heard about a Djinni in a lamp, right Feliciano?" Sadiq raised an eyebrow.

"Si~! They are the blue men who grant three wishes! And they sing!" He burbled clapping his hands together in exitement.

"Er. Not quite Feli.." The Spaniard said, casting a glance at his bronze arm.

"It's what gave me this." Gilbet growled, pulling up his sleeve. And unwrapping the white linen that covered the black spot. "Only Djinns can preform magyk in this world as most of you know. So a Djinn put a curse on me.. I think it's some sort of tracker for that Russian guy to hunt me."

"Isn't that cheating?" Arthur said.

"Aye, but I don't think it's very accurate. So the Russian wanted some kind of hint but not a full on target," Gilbert shrugged examining it "Damn daemon magyk. It is so not awesome."

"Well, sorry to rush you but seeing as the longer you stay the more likely we are to be attacked too." Ludwig said, scowling.

Spain sighed but nodded; "Si. We should, I don't want Lovi to get hurt-"

"I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF DAMMIT! YOU TREAT ME LIKE I'M SOME SORT OF CHILD!" Lovino screeched before attacking the Spaniard head-first with a blow to the stomach.

Arthur smirked as he agreed. "Aye. I say we go."

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><p>The whirr of engines overpowered the song of birds, the hum of auto mobiles, and the chatter of people on the street as the the men prepared for take off.<p>

"All clear over here." Arthur called out.

"Same here." Spain called back.

"Awesome ready for take off!" Gilbert laughed.

"Ve~ Ciao Antonio!" Feliciano giggled, waving a flag as the three small bi-planes took off, towards the northern horizon.

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><p><strong>AN Another chapter DAOWN BABY! Now give me yo feed back. I'm interested in how many of you also think my grammars suck.**


	13. Chapter 13: Meeting Your First Djinni

**A/N: as thanks for all the awesome reviews I have a gift for you all: A FILLER/KINDA-SORTA PLOT HELPER CHAPTER! Wooot~!**

**Anyway, thanks for convincing me that my grammar dosen't suck. Grazie~!**

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><p>Sadiq walked through the busy streets- dirtied snow crunching under his feet as his children held his hands for warmth.<p>

"Papa, where were those men going?" His daughter said, her dark brown hair was in ringlets which bounced every time she took a step.

He smiled lovingly down at his child, "Those men are going far away from here. They are going to Asia, have I ever told you what Singapore is?"

The girl shook her head in response. The little boy, Raheem that trailed with them was sucking his thumb but still keeping an eye on his father in case he ran which was a game they played a lot.

"Singapore is a magical place- where pirates go to be safe. I want to take you two when you are older." He said as they neared the shop. They had to turn into an alley to get there so with a burst of energy he ran towards the shop, both of his children catching up to him and beating him to the small store.

"We beat you daddy!" The boy said grinning as he opened the door- the small tinkling of a bell rang as both children entered. Their father nodded in defeat.

Sadiq fell against the wall, panting. His breath visible in the crisp air. As his breathing slowed he noted that he felt like he was being watched. He wasn't quite sure though by whom, so he readied himself by switching the automatic weapon under his coat on- the heat emanated off of the metal burning his skin.

The air around he grew cold.. he could see ice start to crystallize on the glass panels in his shop. He took a step back, almost slipping on the frozen puddle he stepped on. He could feel the sweat on his forehead start to chill and freeze. His breath visible in the harsh air.

"I wouldn't try and run, it would make you even more vulnerable." A deep voice said from above. Sadiq glanced towards the speaker, who was crouched above him on the roof, claws digging into the roofing tiles.

The creature was humanoid in appearance. With dark, forest green scales and yellow eyes with slits for pupils. A long tail writhing around in the air, the tip of the tail had a fish fin from what Sadiq could tell. It head was more of a lizards than human though; with the mouth and nose elongated and eyes on different sides of its head.

"Get rid of yourself, daemon." Sadiq spat, his white mask covering the anger in his eyes.

The creatures blood-red eyes narrowed as the pupils grew to ovals as it focused on its target. It ran a claw along a tile, sounding a disgusting noise."Now, now- we don't use the 'D' word like that in civilised. Address me by my species name, aru."

Sadiq reached his hand inside his coat, the metal of the gun now burning his chest. "Djinni." As if on cue the thing leapt at him, claws outstretched ready to devour him. But Sadiq sidestepped the attack and drew out the automatic and fired.

The Djinn sprung back to avoid the bullets and bared its long, pointed teeth at him. "Fool, you are lucky I cannot eat you, aru." it hissed.

Sadiq fired another spray of bullets at the creature, leaping it changed into a human- a man dressed in some sort of Asian man with a black pony-tail. The Djinn's new form unsheathed two short wickedly curved blades and ran at him.

The two clashed as people ran from the streets in terror. Screams echoed through alleys as the attacker sliced at Sadiq who nimbly dodged and sent another barrage of bullets at the creature.

Finally the attacking Djinni ducked behind an ally, Sadiq stood, panting, waiting for the next attack. He knew his children were in danger- he had to kill this new foe to protect them and Gilbert. A small rustle drew his attention to a shadow in the far corner of the alley.

Sadiq aimed the large, heavy rifle at it- but he hesitated. Coming out of the darkness he saw the green eyes of his daughter; "Leyla.." He breathed. "What are you doing out here?"

"Papa.. I'm scared.." Leyla spoke softly, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Sadiq flicked off the engine on his weapon and ran over to her, picking her up and holding her. He could feel her chin rest on his shoulder as he jogged back to the store.

"Why did you come back out? You could have been hurt." He gently scolded, running a hand through her dark hair. The ice around the area still hadn't melted so he knew the beast was close.

"I'm sorry papa... I didn't know.." She said, through choking sobs.

Sadiq opened the shop door, the crying girl in his arms. He walked to the back of the shop and set her down on the counter, the he bent so they saw eye to eye.

"Leyla.. look at me." Sadiq murmured wiping away the stream of tears. "Leyla."

"Y-yes?" She hiccuped. Tears staining her tanned skin.

"I'm not angry with you.. don't be scared, nothing will happen."

"But something will." Leylas voice was emotionless. Not a sign of sadness entwined with her words like had been earlier. The girl looked down at the floor.

Sadiq opened his mouth to say something when Leylas foot painfully connected with his bottom jaw sending him reeling backwards, he crashed against a bookcase and fell.

Leyla hopped down from the desk, but when her feet touched the ground the girls form seemed to melt off her. Her dark brown hair turned black as her small dress now was some sort of red monks clothes. "Fool," the Djinni smirked walking towards the recovering Sadiq "How pathetic."

Sadiq vision was blurry but he reached into his coat and pulled out the gun, it hummed to life with the flick of a switch. The Djinni reached out and hardly batted his hand on the machine, but it sent the gun skidding across the floor and into a shelf. Jars of different sorts crashing to the ground scattering multicoloured glass.

"I'll give you time to stand." it smiled cruelly.

Sadiq shakily got to his feet. His white mask now had a couple crimson flecks of blood on it. "Damn you Djinn... How could you do that.." He shook with rage.

"Come now, you should know I can imitate any being I see." It said nonchalantly as it checked it's nails. It stopped and raised an eyebrow as if it had remembered something; "Or eat." It purred.

At that Sadiq lost it, he charged towards the creature, his fist raised, ready to smash it's face in. Sadiq's fist flew, hitting the thing square in the jaw. It hissed before doing a scissor kick and knocking him backwards.

The two ran at each other. Their hands locking trying to overpower the other. Sadiq grunted as the other planted a harsh kick on his stomach, but he kicked back.

The Djinn smiled, then swung his weight so Sadiq went sprawling towards him. Falling over.

Sadiq felt the harsh jab of a foot as his ribs were kicked. He heard the crack of ribs. His vision became hazed, his eyes not wanting to see clearly. "Djinni... what is your name..?" He coughed, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.

"Wang Yao." It replied, before turning and leaving the man to lie in the shop- besides. He was only there to neutralize him, not bring him back to Master. The Dane should take care of the rest.

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><p><strong>AN NNNNOOOOO! SADIQ! I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry.. *is shot***

**Arthur: *sigh* How incredibly sad. Looks like we'll just have to find another annoying Turk.**

**Gilbert: *emo corner* :'(**


	14. Chapter 14: Dreaming of Violet

**A/N Sorry for my random updates. School has been agrivating so other than my Texas crap I haven't been able to post much else. =.=**

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><p>"Good day to you, sir." The butler bowed as the man in a fitting black suit walked by him into the house. Today was not a good day. Nor would it become a good day. In fact, it was so far from being a good day that this might give the day where he got lost for ten hours straight in the woods a run for it's money.<p>

The man marched up the long spiral stairs and into his room. Closing the heavy wooden door behind him he clicked the small key into the keyhole and locked himself in. Sighing he strode over to his bedside, which was not much. A plain bed, but it still had a beautifully designed cloth over it.

The man walked over to the wall beside his bed he faced the plain white wall: "Why did that arschloch Gilbert get me drunk.." At this the man let his front half swing forward, his head connecting soundly with the wall, his chocolate-brown normally perfect hair going ascue. Lifting his head off the wall he repeated the sentence: "Why did that arschloch Gilbert get me drunk.." Smack. His head hit the wall again, his hangover visible on his normally elegant features.

After about five minutes of head-banging and wall-questioning the man's bifocals flew off there owners nose as he stared down at the floor, his head still resting against the wall. The bifocals stared back at him evilly, their glass eyes reflecting his unwashed face and sleep deprived features.

"Why did that arschloch Gilbert get me drunk.." He asked the pair of bifocals; being bifocals they didn't reply, but the man still stared down at them, dark circles under his eyes.

"Roderich?" a beautiful voice said softly, he loved that voice. "Are you okay?"

"Ja, fine." He replied, bending over- his head swimming he picked up his bifocals and placed them back in their original places he walked over to the door and opened it. "Is there anything you need Elizaveta?"

"Well..." She began, eyes looking down to the floor "I would like you to play piano... but that is not necessary," she added as a side note "though I would enjoy it."

"Of course I will mein liebe," he smiled down at her, the piano might him feel a tad better anyway.

She led him down the long corridor, down the spiralling stair case, past the kitchen that Gilbert called "The Armoury" because of the countless times she had brained him with a frying pan or a different kitchen utensil. They strode into the large ballroom like area. Paintings of famous musicians and portraits of other important people hung on the walls. The grand piano sat proudly in the room, it's polished black surface gleaming along with the pearly white keys.

Sitting down he placed his fingers on the piano. Their cool ivory brushed against his warm skin making him shiver slightly. Elizaveta bent and pulled the small lever and the piano, the small tick of the engine that would magnify the sound hummed in his ears.

He pressed down, playing a chord the music reverberated off the walls, echoing throughout the large house. Elizaveta swayed with the music beside him, he remembered exactly how they met. That moron Gilbert had been responsible for the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him. How ironic, he thought as he gently played the instrument. They keys glistening in the kerosene light.

Roderich was not rich, no matter how much people suspected him of being an aristocrat. He was born into a rich family, yes. And he was given a slice of the estate to live comfortably on. But he was the third child. The leftover. He wouldn't inherit any of the family's fortune. It didn't matter if he was a genius or if he did something miraculous. He was never recognised as a true member of the Edelstein Household.

Lost in his thoughts he missed a key. His eyes flew open- how could he have messed up this song? It was Chopin for god's sake. He knew every note in the damned song.

"You stopped, because you broke your wing Little Bird, da?" A cold, almost childlike Russian voice purred behind him. Roderich spun on the bench, glasses slightly ascue at the sudden shock. The Russian stood in place of where Elizaveta once stood. He had a long tattered scarf which wound around his neck cover his lower jaw and part of his mouth.

"W-who are you, where is Elizaveta?" Roderich stuttered, he could feel the temperature in the room physically drop as the the Russian walked closer and closer to him, he seemed to be taking his time with his steps as he drew nearer to the pianist.

Roderich stood; "Good sir, I demand you leave this house at once. If you would like to speak to me you must have a resorvation." He kept his voice level and clear. The Russian smiled as an answer.

"I do not think you can stop with the making of the noise, da? It is getting quite annoying." The Russian drew out a long, wickedly curved blade. He fondled the scarf and looked up at the Austrian, his violet eyes glinting deviously. "Time for you to be quiet, da."

Gilbert sat bolt upright in bed, cold beads of sweat dribbling off his forehead as he choked for breath. His covers had pooled at his waist, their creamy colour looking dark against his pale albino skin. He coughed, shivered, and shook his head to try and clear the image of what had happened next out of his mind.

He looked over at the next bed, Arthur lay stiffly on his bed. His breath hardly audible. To his other side Antonio lay sprawled about his bed, the sheets only partially covering him. The Spaniard sighed in his sleep, turning over to show his back to the Prussian. Gilbert got a full view of Antonio's back, his tanned form almost flawless until you saw the long jagged scar that led like a trail to the metal shoulder piece that connected the human part of him to the metal arm.

Gilbert wondered how he had gotten it, Arthur said he had been a pirate like them a while back but was unsure of how he was injured. Gilbert sighed, glancing out the window and onto the gleaming Canadian sunrise. He would need to sleep if they were to have any chance of making a profit tomorrow. He lay back down and threw the sheets over his head, cutting out the light from the rising sun.


End file.
